


It Started In A Park, At Least

by Capitola



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, First Dates, Fluff, Humanstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-06 00:32:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5395919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capitola/pseuds/Capitola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jade was just trying to take her dog for a walk, and she thought there'd be no one else around - how was she supposed to know he'd go straight for some law student's seeing-eye dog? Or that the girl would demand a date as compensation?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Started In A Park, At Least

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mysteriousacorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysteriousacorn/gifts).



> Prompt: "Jade/Terezi - Something to do with their first date (at the park?) Matesprits by the way." Park turned into more of a meet-cute than a date location, but I hope it's a satisfactory first date!

You get up early on the day you meet Terezi Pyrope (not that you know that’s the day at the time). You suit up in all your winter running gear and take Bec out for a run. It’s a little chilly and the sidewalks are still filled with slush from last week’s snow, but no amount of winter grey can hide what is clearly the start of a beautiful day. You love Boston in any weather, even the hellish parts of the winters, but a pretty morning at the beginning of December is like an early Christmas gift! Bec knows you’re heading for the park before you’re even a block away, and your arm is so tired by the time you reach the grass that you let him off the leash without even looking for anyone else. Usually he’s such a good dog that it doesn’t make any difference, anyways...

 

Your thoughts stop with a screeching halt when you realized that’s not the case this morning. He takes off running straight for the only other dog in sight, a German shepherd sitting at the other end of the clearing - that’s unmistakably attached to a service dog harness, fuck. You don’t register any more than this before dashing off after him. It’s not a long distance, but even you get a little out of breath at trying to match Bec’s speed, and you’re out of breath by the time you reach the treeline.

 

“I’m so so so sorry!” You start to shout out an apology before you even catch your breath, expecting him to be rolling around or vigorously licking the other dog or its owner – but to your surprise, Bec is actually being a perfect gentleman, well, gentlepup. He’s standing still and lightly sniffing at the rigidly seated dog, just like he was waiting for you. Your eyes trail up the red leash to the redhead reclining on the bench, gloved thumb hovering over the keypad as if caught mid-text. She looks up towards the sound of your voice with a broad, cheeky grin. She has a very wide, bracketed smile, and there’s something more than a little bit mischievous about it.

“I can’t possibly understand how anyone expects to keep the peace in this city with people like you literally unleashing such a hellhound upon the unsuspecting populace, in clear violation of the posted signs. Did you not _see_ the signs?” she says, pointing to a lamp post. Which happens to be one of the lamp posts without a sign.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Still breathless, you bend down to put Bec back on his leash, fiddling with the clasp with shaking hands. “I really didn’t think – there’s never anyone here at this hour, and he’s never been a reckless dog, trust me when I say this has never happened before.”

She looks surprised for a moment, then snickers at the sincerity of your apology, actually snickers. “Miss Lime, I wouldn’t worry too much about that.  Even I have better things to do than go around prosecuting well-behaved dogs.” You realize she was joking, something that might have clicked sooner if you weren’t so caught up in being sorry.

“Miss Lime?” Something in you releases, some breath you’d been holding for the past minute, it comes out as a giggle. Glancing down at your jogging outfit, you guess that’s a fair nickname – blue tight-fitting shirt and lime-green leggings. Your running stuff tends to be pretty bright, given you keep weird hours for exercise, and safety is important - even your hat and gloves have reflective stripes!

Now that the initial shock has passed, you can see that she’s probably about your age, and she’s not doing too bad for visibility herself, between her bright red sunglasses, curly red hair, and a bright teal parka. It’s unzipped enough that you can see she’s wearing a “Harvard Law” t-shirt and a pair of ratty blue jeans. First guess would say she just stepped out for a smoke, but the combination of the “no-smoking sign” posted in all the parks and her stern rebuke for not following the leash law would say no to that theory. Maybe the dog just needed some air. You smile nervously.

“What’s his name?” you ask, trying to get onto a nicer subject.

“Her name - ” Oops! “ - is Pyralspite, Pyral for short.” You think you can see her eyebrows furrow a bit disapprovingly behind her sunglasses. “And I suppose he’s called something like Hellmurder Hound?”

“Oh, no, this is Becquerel!” You usually give him a good pet on the head here when introducing him to people, but he has to earn that back today - you just give him a light pat. “Really, he’s an awfully good boy - aren’t you now, Bec?” He pants and stares straight at Pyral.

Your hand twitches involuntarily – you’re not good with being so near a dog you can’t pet, but you wouldn’t dream interrupting an animal at work.

Neither would Bec, normally; he’s a very observant dog. You always suspected he could read the “don’t pet” harnesses himself – you’ve never seen him approach someone like this before. Really, it’s almost as though – well, any other dog you wouldn’t dream of it, but with him you wonder – it’s almost like he wanted the two of you to start talking. You shoot him a glare and he just looks up at you with a wide-eyed, innocent smile. _Dogs_.

 

“I’m sure. If you aren’t going to apologise for your heinous crime, however,” the girl continues in the same scolding tone she’d started off with, “I think you should buy me a coffee.” She smiles like a dragon with a chest of gold.

  
  
She takes you by surprise with that one.

 

“Sorry?”

 

“Not right now, of course – you have a run to finish, and besides, you smell like a gym.” She wrinkles her nose. “But I have no plans for the rest of today. Two o’clock, the Frosty Frog. And I’m usually on time.”

 

“Oh. Okay. Wait,” You suddenly realize this has gone further and faster than you expected any human interaction at the park to go when you got out this morning. “What was your name?”

 

“Terezi Pyrope. And you? Or do I have to  keep calling you Miss Lime?” Her face suggests that she would relish an entire afternoon of just calling someone “Miss Lime.”

 

“Jade Harley! I guess I’ll see you there!” Talk about six impossible things before breakfast. Go out to walk the dog and all of a sudden you’ve got a date for this afternoon!

 

Still, as you walk away, you begin to scold Bec quietly. “Mister, that may have worked this time, but you can’t use off-the-leash time as an excuse to play matchmaker. What if she had actually thought I couldn’t control my dog?” He gives your hand a big lick and continues pulling.

 

You get home after a long run (on the leash, not through the park) sweaty but exhilarated at the prospect of something more to do today. Your shower takes much longer than you usually bother with, but you do want to look nice, first impressions and all – well, second impressions, to be fair. You sweep up your long black hair back into a ponytail, frown, and then put it in a braid, which looks better. As for clothes, you go for a plain blue skirt and the only clean shirt you can find – at least you think it’s clean. You’re always a few days behind on your laundry – you think of it as just having better ways to spend your time. Like, for example, the lab report which you while away an hour working at while waiting for the afternoon to roll around. You get so wrapped up in it that you almost miss your calendar alarm when it goes off at 1:30, and have to pull on a jacket and run out the door.

You half-run, half-walk over and still manage to be at the café early, which, thank goodness after what she said about being on time. Alright. You’re cool. You got this. Your sit down at one of the rickety metal outside table to wait, and take a battered flip mirror out of your purse to look at your face a bit. The zit at the side of your nose is gone and you remembered to put on a bit of makeup. You do a practice smile and then frown - in your rush, you forgot one earring, so you fumble to take the other one out. Better to look like you forgot both than that you tried to go for a pirate look.

And, ugh your teeth. You know they shouldn’t bother you, but they really don’t look at all cute anymore - cute on a six-year-old, cute on a twelve-year-old, even, but at twenty-two they’ve lost what remained of their youthful charm. Then again, though, her teeth were no prize chompers either - and like that your mind drifts from your teeth to _Terezi’s_ teeth to having your two awkward sets of teeth close together and your lips close together -

Nope. Nope nope nope nope. You don’t got this. The blushes no doubt forming on your face _definitely_ don’t got this. Is this a date? Does she date girls?  Only one in ten people are actually queer, your very gay circle of friends is far from representative of the general population. Not very likely that you would meet a cute law student who is also dateable. Was she just asking to get your goat, and a free coffee out of a loose dog?

“Miss Harley!” You almost jump at the sound of her voice, though she probably didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that. She’s a little more dressed up than this morning, parka now over a red dress and tights, and has a red and white cane in her hand instead of the dog. She continues as though she didn’t notice your surprise.

“I left Pyralspite at home - I thought I’d give her a break for the afternoon, and let you walk me around a bit.” Damn, it’s like this girl can read your mind.

“You’re early, I see. I like that in a woman. For your information, this is a date right now, though if you prove to be an unsuitable person to be on a date with, I reserve the right to rescind that status at any time. No need for you to read the menu - I’ve got it memorized already, no thanks to them for continuing to use such confusing writing. If they didn’t do lattes so well…” She shakes her head dismissively in a way that suggests a rather horrible fate would await them. She flings open the doors with a bit of fanfare and you follow her in.

It’s a nice little cafe - the usual little tables, filled with cramming students (usually you) some people having meetings (sometime you), and a few couples on dates (you today!). There’s the chalkboard menu covered in drawings of little frogs, snowflakes, and icicles, and the counter is decked out with that fake snow stuff and little frog statues. They’ve got a good gimmick and they stick to it.

She picks one of those five-dollar sugary iced drinks with whipped cream. You wonder if that’s her usual kind of drink, or if that’s just because you’re paying. You go for the eggnog latte, because, after all, it is _December_. You sit down at a window table in full sunlight and each take a satisfying slurp of your drinks. She gives you another of those metallic, dragon-y grins.

“So. Tell me. When you’re not letting horrendous hellhounds loose on unsuspecting law students, who is the lovely Miss Jade Harley? And before you ask, I’m only guessing that you’re lovely. The final test of the date will make sure of that.” You’re beginning to realize that what you had mistaken for a scold earlier was really more of an overzealous attempt at flirting while using her extensive law vocabulary. This woman is tricky.

You sip at your coffee and frown, trying to figure out how that might work. “How do you test that?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out!” she laughs, “but I’ll give you a hint: it wouldn’t work for my own face!” You feel like you’ve just been excluded from a joke in a conversation for two.

“That doesn’t sound like a very reliable method of evidence collection - ”

“Do you always talk like a science journal?” She raises an eyebrow.

 

“Well, I am a second year master’s in specialized physics - ”

“Ooh, sounds like MIT territory.” She’s got you there. “Specialized in what?”

  
  
“Specialized in boring thing involving particles and space that a _Harvard Law_ student’s probably not well-versed in,” you shoot back with a smile, getting into the rhythm of her friendly banter.

She smiles. “Sustained.”

You find that you like keeping up with her. In the same manner of half-interrogation, half-flirty conversation, she learns about you, and what little of your studies she does understand (and you suspect it’s more than she lets on), and your crazy adventurer family. You tell her about Grandpa’s dynasty of big white hellhounds, and how you worry that city life doesn’t always agree with Bec, having grown up on an island.

“Still, after Grandpa died last year, there wasn’t much choice; it was either me in the city or following Jake on his adventures, and Bec doesn’t like planes.” She gives the understanding nod of another dog-lover.  

You both reminisce a bit about your school days (she is also obviously what Grandpa would have called “smart as a whip,” though in a very different way than he meant it with you). You recall an old prank you and Dave played on the PA at school, and it turns out she lives in the same building as Rose and Dave are right now.

“And to think,” she says, with what you think is mock wonder on her face, “I’ve never seen you until now.”  
  


“Well, I’m in a committed-long-term-relationship with Work right now - ” Her face flashes insecurity for a moment, and you realize doofus, you just made a joke about being committed while on a date, and you’re about to come up with a snappy retort when she beats you to it.  
  


“Yeah, I know. I’ve got one of those too.” She laughs. “At least it’s what makes us happy, even if it kills us.” She takes the lid off her milkshake-coffee-fusion and chugs the last dregs of it without a straw. You decide to change the subject.

“So, um, what about you? How long have you wanted to do law?”  
  


“Since forever!” She smiles again, more genuinely than her griping-about-studies smile. “Mom used to take me along with her to work a lot, and I saw the inside of a courthouse before I saw the inside of a classroom.” She taps her sunglasses. “That was before my vision did a disappearing act. I’ve been legally blind since grade school.”

“Oh.” You frown a bit and look down at your drink, a little uncertain of what you say next. “Sorry.” You’re not sure how one talks about like traumatic vision loss.

She snorts. “Don’t be, jeez, I get that enough. I still get around as well as anyone else. Besides, I wouldn’t be here if your hound hadn’t taken an interest in Pyral.”

“I guess that is true!” You smile again. “Have you met other people that way?”  
  


“No, she’s a pretty good dog, unlike _some other beasts I know_.”  
  


“Oh, come on! You can’t be _that_ opposed to him. We both know you just wanted to use my letting him off the leash as an excuse to ask me on a date!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! That would be highly irregular behavior, Miss Jade Harley.” You decide at that moment that you would do a lot of things to continue making her want to make that cute little grin.

“Oh, of course, Miss Pyrope,” you respond in kind, even doing something that sort of resembling batting your eyelashes, which you can’t quite do, though either way you realize the gesture is probably lost on her.

When you’ve finished up your latte, she suggests you take her for a walk, seeing as you’re both done with your drinks now, and you oblige. The fresh air is nice - the Frosty Frog has its own nice smells of coffee, and ice cream, but you can’t beat the smell of sunshine and slush on a beautiful day. You say as much to Terezi, and she smiles.

“Here, take my arm,” she says as you’re walking out onto the sidewalk. You don’t question her need for a little guidance on the street (especially with all the ice!), but you suspect she’s getting a bit more than that grabbing your arm so tightly. Not that you’re complaining.

You walk along the sidewalk, passing shop after shop with windows filled with holiday displays. Terezi likes them a lot, explaining that she can see very bright colors, and there’s a lot more to see downtown for her at this time of year. You feel as though you’re seeing the city with new eyes, you’re so enchanted by being so close to her. She directs you expertly around a series of shops and restaurants, chattering about memories and studies and honestly it could be anything; you realize you just like to hear her talk.

It feels like too short a walk, too short a date, but you reach one apartment house which she declares as hers, and you stand outside a moment facing each other, puffs of breath fogging the air between you.

You start to stumble out a goodbye, not expecting anything for the finale, and more than a little surprised by her grabbing your face. She proceeds to run her tongue down your nose, along your jawbone, and plant a brief kiss on your mouth. She pulls back with a studious look, and you’re sure the look on your face must be the kind that would have heart-eyes in a cartoon.

“Hmmm, as per the usual final test, I have ascertained that you, Miss Harley, are very pretty. We should do this again sometime! I know, you’ve got your work to think about and I’ve got mine, but you know maybe we could - ” she pauses for a moment, as if searching for a word, then grins, “ - experiment? Both keep up our things with Work, and try to make something for us in between?”

 

You can only smile and nod happily as Bec in the park this morning. “I’d be honored to be a part of the experiment, Miss Pyrope. I propose we start phase 1 at the Frosty Frog at lunch on Wednesday.”

 

She smiles. “It’s a date!” And she turns around and walks up to her building, and you think she’s humming something to herself - a little upbeat tune, if you’re hearing correctly. You just stand there smiling like a loon, though you give her a happy little wave that she returns.

You know now that you’re going to be remembering this day, mark things by this first day, which ended with you getting your face licked by a very cute law student, and started with what was supposed to just be an ordinary day at the park -

 

You suppose you will have to buy Bec a new bone for this.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Giftstuck!


End file.
